


pt ii ~ loki laufeyson

by peachyteabuck



Series: ceo chronicles [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Angry Sex, Cum Play, Daddy Kink, F/M, Squirting, i talk about economics which is...bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 06:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19289866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyteabuck/pseuds/peachyteabuck
Summary: after treachery within his company leads to a major dip in the stock prices, loki's not exactly in the mood to “make love”





	pt ii ~ loki laufeyson

Loki isn’t happy, but he never truly is when he first comes home from work.

Every day he comes in seething about this person in accounting and that person in marketing, grumbling about this thing that went wrong and that thing that went wrong. Every day he steps into the house with fevered steps, ready to fuck you over the surface closest to wherever he finds you in his large penthouse. You’re what he looks forward to at the end of each grueling day, why he hasn’t forced himself into early retirement. If he stepped down he’d receive quite a pretty retirement package, but he still wouldn’t be able to hunt for you in your home at the end of a long work day.

Wherever he finds you, he’ll fuck you then and there. Sometimes it’s the kitchen counter, the bathroom next to the sink, your bed, the couch, the floor. Loki does not like to mince words, doesn’t like to prolong the inevitable. He’s short, to the point, both in business and in pleasure.

Despite this, Loki’s never harsh (or, never _stays_ harsh), when he fucks you. No, he holds you like you’re made of precious porcelain, something unique and valuable and _breakable_ ; like you’re some museum piece kept in archives for fear of sun damage.

There are rare times he lets go, just _takes_ you in some feral, wolfish way. These are his even scarcer days off, or those particularly serious times when _really_ fucks up. It’s then, on those notable, raw occasions that Loki holds you down, props you face-down ass-up in the middle of your California king on your perfect one-thousand thread count Egyptian cotton sheets and pounds into your dripping cunt until you’re bruised and screaming and begging for something – whether it be for him to cease immediately to continue until the end of time unknown.

As Loki steps into the door with his teeth barred, slamming it behind him before throwing off his coat, it’s obvious that tonight is one of those times. It’s regular that you’re caught off guard by this change of pace, but this time you saw it coming. The last few nights you’d woken up at two, three in the morning to the other side of the bed void of warmth and the sound of Loki’s strained voice on the phone with his CFO coming from his desk on the other side of the room.

You’d seen it on the news, too, unable to turn off the alerts fast enough to hear the news: there’d been a leak in the product manufacturing department, and a prototype had been leaked to a company rival. A mere days later, what Laufeyson Co. was known for they’d now become second best. They were now an underdog in a world where they’d previously held a monopoly, a long way to fall for such a successful startup.

This tumble down the Fortune 500 latter meant many, _many_ things, including the plummeting of stock prices. This loss of money, especially due to such a heinous act as treachery, puts Loki on an edge you’ve never seen him before.

He finds you in the kitchen, carving a chicken you roasted yourself. As the sliced bits fall down onto the large, dark brown cutting board, it becomes obvious to Loki that they’re meant to be plated with the with potatoes and asparagus resting in the pure white bowls to your right.

 _No matter_ , he thinks as he unbuttons the top of his pristine white button-up and unzipping his pants. _That’s what ovens are for_.

The second your lover comes into view, you understand; you understand what you are to do and what you are to do.

Wordlessly, you wipe your hands on your apron before untying it, running to the closest item of furniture as you peel away the t-shirt of Loki’s you had been wearing. The deep oak dining room table, sans its centerpiece and any cutlery, provides the place for what will surely be the beginning of an eventful night.

Loki’s the first one to speak, moaning as he spreads your folds with his thumb. “Oh _God_ , baby,” you mewl as he avoids the most sensitive parts of you, instead basking in the heat of your soaked center. “You’re so soaked for me, aren’t you?”

You whine out something that vaguely resembles a _yes_ , and Loki grins. He loves seeing you like this, all desperate and dripping and all so _quickly_ , as if seeing him triggers some Pavlovian  response in your pussy.

Loki’s, never being one for prolonging his own pleasure, quickly shoving two fingers into your already-soaking cunt. The sharp inhale of break turns into a deep moan as his other hand moves to your clit, rubbing expert circles over the sensitive nub.

 “Loki-“you gasp, and immediately your cheeks warm at the sound of the desperate, high-pitched sound. Before it was just a whisper, but now your cries sound so much more _pathetic._

He catches on immediately, understanding what you want; what you _need_. “Oh, my little girl…you’re already so desperate, aren’t you? I’ve barely touched you and you’re already whining like the little cock slut you are, begging for me to be inside of you”

You can feel your wetness drip down onto your inner thighs as you hear Loki undo his belt and free his aching cock. He just _barely_ teases the tip of it against your entrance, an unexpected action that nearly has you tearing your own hair out from the tenderness.

 But before you can push back, he’s got a hand wrapped in your hair and is pulling you against his front. His crisp, shirt acts as a frustrating barrier between your bodies, your skin, and you near beg for him to take it off to feel his skin against yours, to feel him so close in such a moment.

But, before you can even open your mouth, Loki shoves his entire cock into your pussy.

“F-f _uck_ ,” you moan. You can feel your hands go numb as you grab at the edge of the table, partially for leverage and partially to give yourself something to cling to – as your nails fail to find purchase on the smooth wood.

Loki just smirks, wide and wicked as he pounds into you. “You like that, baby?” He bites at your neck, his hips snapping into your violently. “You like it when I fuck you this hard?” He waits several beats for you to respond, but nothing but gaspy breathes leave your unpainted lips. Loki, angry at your disobedience, slaps your ass so hard tears immediately begin to flow down your cheeks. “ _Answer me._ ”

“ _Yes, daddy,”_ you cry out, hoping your lack of following orders doesn’t make him stop. “ _Yes_ , I love the way you fuck me.”

Still, Loki isn’t satisfied with this minor retribution. He pulls out of you, ignoring your incessant whining as he flips you over. He then slips three fingers into you and wraps his other hand around your throat. You’re so close you can feel the buttons on his shirt, the necklace he insists on wearing with both of your initials carved onto a sleep bit of silver. “Speak, you little slut,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Tell me how well I fuck you.”

You’ve got both palms grabbing at the arm threatening to restrict your breathing, anchoring him to you. Quickly, words tumble like rocks down a steep cliff. “I love the way you make me feel, Daddy, I fucking love how I can’t walk or think or talk after you fuck me, love how your cock feels in my pussy and throat and ass and hands. Loving feeling you come in me, on me- “

Loki growls. “Tell me you worship my cock, _tell_ me you worship _me_.”

The pad of his thumb circles your neglected clit, and you cry out as his fingers crook into the spot that always makes you see stars. It makes all the breath leaves your body as you try and obey. “I worship you, Daddy!” You cry out. “I worship your cock, I worship the ground you walk on! I worship your every word!” Your eyes roll back in your head as the coil low in your abdomen tightens like a python stealing the oxygen from your organs and muscles. “Please, _please_ let me come, daddy, please I’ll do anything!”

Loki just smiles and bites at the shell of your ear. “It’s okay, baby girl, let _go_.”

And so you do, liquid gushing out of you and onto the table. It drips onto the floor, the sound of it puddling erotic as you collapse on the wood – warmed from your body and breath. Air fills and escapes your lungs as a pace your heart nearly can’t keep up with, and you’re left to recover on your own as Loki quickly brings himself to release over your ass.

He collapses next to you on the table, pulling you into his chest and maneuvering you around so that you’re laying lengthwise on the large tabletop. It’s uncomfortable, especially with Loki’s cum still smeared on your ass and your slick still gathering between your legs. Still, it’s hard for your eyelids not to flutter at the sound of your lover’s beating heart and the smells from dinner still wafting from the kitchen counter where you left it.

It’s silent for a while, both of you quiet as you catch your breath and reality settles over you both like a fire blanket. For a moment you’re tempted to move, tempted to fix him a plate or make a sly comment about buying a new table, but it soon passes as Loki’s familiar ringtone blasts from the device’s place on the marble countertop next to your bowl of asparagus ends. You think he’s going to answer it, but instead he allows it to go to voicemail – a rare occasion.

“Aren’t you going to-“ you begin, worried that something truly heinous had happened.

“Nah,” Loki says, eyes shut and breathing even. “I’ll let my assistant handle it when whoever’s calling eventually phones them. For now, I just want to lay with you on this uncomfortable table.”

And so that is what you do, falling asleep on your kitchen table, in the middle of your penthouse, with him still in his dress shirt and you completely naked. _It’s nice,_ you think. _To spend time with him alone._ Wishing to savor the precious moment, you remain quiet, hoping the peace never ends.

 

 

 


End file.
